


the ways we are l(ink)ed

by xelin



Category: A.C.E (Beat Interactive Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Non-Famous, Fluff, General idiocy and strong opinions about Pokémon, M/M, Tattoos
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-17
Updated: 2018-09-17
Packaged: 2019-07-13 14:24:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,638
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16019771
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xelin/pseuds/xelin
Summary: Junhee is an entirely responsible person who never makes stupid, impulsive decisions.Which is exactly why waking up with a hangover and a couple tattoo was not on his agenda.





	the ways we are l(ink)ed

**Author's Note:**

  * For [xiigua](https://archiveofourown.org/users/xiigua/gifts).



> happy birthday tee <3  
> the title is a pun because i felt it was in-character  
> (@everyone leafgreen/firered is the best pokémon game square up)

Of all the ways Junhee has woken up, on the kitchen floor of his apartment with the bitter taste of vodka in his mouth is the worst yet.

“Rise and shine,” Yuchan says, giving Junhee a gentle nudge with his foot and receiving an incoherent mumble in response. Cracking open an eye, he’s met with his roommate hovering over him, cup of coffee in hand and looking oddly reminiscent of a zombie.

“You look awful,” Junhee croaks, earning another nudge from Yuchan that resembles more of a kick.

“So do you. It’s 3pm, get up.” The half-empty coffee cup is shoved into Junhee’s hands. It’s slightly cold. He grimaces.

“I remember nothing, how are you this functional?” Junhee forces himself onto his legs and drapes himself dramatically across the kitchen counter. He is so used to dragging Yuchan out of bed in the mornings like the cluttered college student he is, that seeing him up and moderately put together without any help is like a miracle.

“I woke up in the bath so I took a shower straight away,” Yuchan explains like it’s the most normal thing in the world, shoving bread into the toaster and squinting at where Junhee is lying face-down on the surface on the counter. “Speaking of, unplaster yourself from there and go shower.”

 

It takes around two minutes for Junhee to bust open the bathroom door in nothing but a towel, leaving a trail of water in his wake. Yuchan looks up from where he’s buttering toast and feigns innocence.

“You knew,” Junhee says, jabbing a finger across the room. “You knew, and you didn’t tell me!”

“I saw it when I woke up, but I wanted to delay the shock.” Yuchan abandons his buttering mission to wander over to Junhee and turn his arm over, still wet from where he had angrily projected himself out of the shower without bothering to dry himself. “Oh my god, it’s still funny.”

“This isn’t funny! In what world is this funny?” Junhee lifts his hand and presses it to his forehead, emitting some vague noise of distress. Yuchan runs his fingers over the ink - a perfectly drawn depiction of a bulbasaur inside half a heart.

“It’s hilarious,” Yuchan confirms, nodding seriously. “I wonder who got the other half.”

Junhee freezes up, and turns his head so quickly Yuchan could almost hear the snap. “You mean, you don’t have the other half?”

Yuchan scrunches up his nose, mimicking disgust. “Why would I want to get couple tattoos with you? Even drunk me isn’t that stupid. We must have met someone while we were out last night.”

Junhee, absolutely horrified, doesn’t feel so tired anymore.

 

The storefront of the only tattoo studio in town is big and dark and covered in skulls and neon paint and-

“Nope, nevermind. I’m just going to save up for laser removal,” Junhee says with a sense of finality. Yuchan rolls his eyes and proceeds to half-drag him to the door, ignoring the distressed protests. “I can’t do this, I’m weak, Chan. They can probably smell my weakness.”

“It’s a tattoo studio, not a forest of wolves. Stop whining, come on.” Yuchan flashes a cheerful smile and walks through the door; his grip on Junhee’s sleeve is the only reason the other hasn’t bolted.

The place is visually similar to its exterior. It’s dark, lit up by various neon-coloured lamps, relatively empty aside from two people flipping through photos in the far corner and some guy half-leaning on the counter near the door.

“Good afternoon!” Yuchan calls brightly, making Junhee shrink back even more. The tattooist by the counter looks up from where he was previously scrawling something on a notepad, pen between teeth and glasses resting on the bridge of his nose. Contrary to the tattoos smothering his forearms and various piercings littering his face, his expression instantly contorts into a wide smile. It brightens his cheeks so that they match his pink mop of hair, his free hand coming up to push it back from his forehead.

He lets out a hum reminiscent of a greeting; pries the pen from between his teeth to poke it at the pair that were loitering near the door. “Hey, it’s you two!” His chin comes to rest on his palm. “Where’s lover boy?” He’s talking to Junhee this time, wiggling his eyebrows meaningfully.

“ _Who_?” Junhee splutters, tugging his arm free from Yuchan (who is trying very hard not to laugh, mind you) and rolling up the sleeve. He turns his arm over and presents it to the tattooist, who looks to be struggling with his laughter almost as much as Yuchan. “Did you do this to me?”

“You asked me to!” he defends, lifting his hands up innocently. “This is my job. Don’t come in here and demand a tattoo and expect to walk away without one.” Almost instantly, he shifts back into his previous demeanor and leans forward teasingly. “You look a lot more sober today, though.”

Yuchan shoves Junhee aside, pressing his hands on the counter and nodding extremely seriously at the living embodiment of his roommate’s suffering. “You did a fantastic job. Absolute masterpiece. I’m Yuchan, big fan.” The pair burst out laughing, and Junhee finds himself regretting this trip even more.

“I’m Byeongkwan, I’m glad you appreciate art when you see it,” the tattooist replies, shaking hands with Yuchan as though confirming a very important business deal.

“Okay, ha-ha, we all love suffering at the expense of others,” Junhee says, interrupting the exchange with several pats on the counter. “Once you’re done laughing at me, I’d like to know who got the other half of this tattoo?”

Byeongkwan physically double takes. “You… Wait, you don’t know the guy?”

“No, neither me nor Chan remember anything from yesterday. At all,” Junhee explains. There’s a heartbeat of silence.

“I thought you two were dating,” Byeongkwan blurts out. Junhee shifts into panic: starts loudly proclaiming some incoherent half-mumbled words, hands coming up to fall on his cheeks in embarrassment. “You came in arm-in-arm and everything.”

“But I was there?” Yuchan asks suddenly, listening to Byeongkwan and ignoring the nervous breakdown occurring right next to him.

Byeongkwan nods. “Yeah, you suggested the heart,” he says. Yuchan pretends not to notice Junhee’s eyes burning holes through him. “They came in asking for Pokémon couple tattoos, supposedly something about their mutual agreement of FireRed and LeafGreen being the best Pokémon games.”

“They are,” Junhee whispers resolutely amidst his crisis. He rolls his sleeve back down. “Do you remember anything else? Anything that’ll help me find the dude with the other half of this tattoo?”

“Um.” Byeongkwan hesitates. “All of my clients write down their names and signatures. Legal thing. Let me check.” He pulls a folder out from under the counter, ripping out the first sheet of paper and skimming the names.

“Ah,” he says.

“Ah?”

“I assume this would be you two.” Byeongkwan flips the sheet of paper around, pointing a finger to where _Prince Hee_ and _Prince Hun_ are written in the column of names. Their signatures have little crowns drawn above them. Junhee nearly slams his face into the wall.

“It’s okay, your highness,” Yuchan says reassuringly, patting Junhee’s shoulder. “We will find your prince.”

Every moment, laser removal treatment sounds more and more appealing.

  


It’s four days later that they’re sitting in front of a little café, perched on the edge of aluminium chairs heated by the afternoon sun. Yuchan rips open another sugar packet and dumps it into his milky coffee; he always complains that it’s too hot for him to drink, and ends up leaving it for ages to grow lukewarm. Junhee has already finished his hot chocolate and is flipping through his class notes, pretending to reread them.

“You’re failing that class,” Yuchan says, dipping a finger into his coffee to test the temperature.

“Thank you for letting me know, I wasn’t aware,” Junhee replies bitterly, not even bothering to look up from the notes he was definitely paying attention to.

It sort of became habit to go out after classes every now and then, at least on the days that Junhee didn’t channel his inner old man energy and just want to lie down. They didn’t often go to cafés unless one of them had work to do, but he’d been craving hot chocolate all day, and the peace was relaxing.

As if to test this supposed 'peace’, Yuchan chokes on his coffee, letting out a noise somewhat like a broken yell and pouring his beverage down his neck. He slams the cup down, still struggling to find his words, and gestures violently behind Junhee.

“He-” Yuchan stands up, shoving his chair back with a loud screech in the process. He plants his hands down on the table, then pokes a finger in Junhee’s direction.

Throughout this entire ordeal, Junhee barely moves, only sparing his friend a glance when a finger was violently shoved into his field of vision.

“The tattoo!” Yuchan says finally. The words take a moment to settle in. Junhee looks up to where Yuchan is standing, brown stains down his white shirt and coffee splattered across the table.

“What?”

“That guy-”

Yuchan grabs Junhee by the arm and tugs him to his feet before he can even reply, leading him to the entrance of the café. He glues his face to the glass door for a few moments, then pulls back.

“Red hair, green shirt. He’s wearing an apron, he works here,” Yuchan reels off.

“What are you talking about?” Junhee asks slowly, freeing himself from Yuchan’s grasp for what feels like the tenth time this week.

“I saw the guy with the other half of your tattoo.” A moment of silence. “He’s pretty cute, he stands out like a beacon with that hair though.”

Junhee shoves Yuchan aside and glances through the door. Sure enough, a guy with fluorescent red hair is shuffling table to table, collecting empty mugs and trays. He’s in a green crop top, apron wrinkled beyond belief, and - yeah, that’s a stupid Pokémon couple tattoo alright. It matches Junhee’s perfectly, aside from the bulbasaur being replaced by a tiny charmander.

Like the calm individual he is, Junhee takes a step back, and turns to leave.

“Woah, hold up,” Yuchan demands, making another grab for Junhee’s arm and missing. “Where are you going?”

“I’m leaving. This sounds like a lot of emotional labour I didn’t sign up for,” Junhee says simply. “You can’t just go up to someone and bring up matching tattoos. What kind of heathen just talks to people these days?”

“He’s the dude you apparently fell in love with for approximately one night, you can’t _not_ talk to him,” Yuchan says in disbelief, catching up to Junhee’s pace. He lets out a short burst of laughter, then adds, “He’s your prince.”

Junhee tries to trip him up.

  


“Excuse me,” Yuchan says, smiling sweetly up at the unsuspecting café worker. It’s even warmer today, and they both have iced drinks (despite the fact that they're cold, Yuchan still leaves his standing for ages). Junhee doesn’t know how Yuchan talked him into coming here again when he knew this would happen.

The guy stops in his tracks, struggling with the trays he’s piled up. “Uh, sorry, how can I help you?”

“My bad for bothering you, but I love your tattoo.” Yuchan widens his smile. Junhee proceeds to stare daggers across the table. “What’s it for?”

“Uh,” repeats the innocent target, in all his articulate glory.

Junhee kicks Yuchan under the table, who successfully doesn’t react aside from flicking his gaze to Junhee for a split second.

“It looks a lot like my friend’s,” Yuchan continues. Junhee kicks a little harder, and Yuchan glares at him.

“That’s nice,” the guy says, flashing an awkward smile. “Sorry, please excuse me.” He fumbles with the trays he’s carrying, and turns away quickly to carry them inside.

“You absolute traitor. I can’t believe you,” Junhee hisses the moment he leaves.

“If you’re not going to talk to him about your huge matching nerd tattoos, someone has to!” Yuchan justifies, smiling brightly as though he hadn’t nearly given Junhee a heart attack. “He seems kind of busy right now, why don’t you ask him when his break is?”

“He’ll think I’m flirting with him!” Junhee protests.

“You have couple tattoos.” Yuchan squints. “I think flirting is the least of your worries.”

Junhee is convinced Yuchan is an idiot with no sense of self preservation. Nevertheless, when the familiar face reappears outside, he spins his chair around and nervously blurts, “When’s your break?”

“What?” the guy says back with equal volume and mild panic. “Uh, like, half an hour?”

Junhee half-mumbles a ‘thank you’, and spins back around to admire the table. As per usual, Yuchan is struggling not to laugh across from him.

 

“Hey, what’s up?” the worker says with a lot more confidence than Junhee has, as he plants himself in the seat Yuchan had left around half an hour ago.

(“You're on your own,” he'd said, throwing his bag over his shoulder. “Good luck seducing your Poképrince.”)

Now that he can look at him properly, Junhee becomes unfortunately aware of how nice this guy is to look at, fluorescent hair and all. Several seconds pass and any words or plan Junhee had prepared in advance vanish. His brain flatlines. Abort mission.

“Date,” he chokes out.

Junhee wonders if it would be considered rude to smack his head onto the table. He sure feels like it.

Contrary to expectation, the guy just widens his eyes, and half-smiles in amusement. “You haven’t asked my name yet, but you’re asking me on a date?” Junhee opens his mouth to form a viable excuse for his idiocy, but the delay in forming words must be obvious, as the worker continues talking. “I’m Donghun, what do I call you?”

“Junhee,” he says eventually, paying far too much attention to Donghun's eyes crinkling and his lips pulling into a grin - well, drunk him sure had taste, he could say that much.

“Alright Junhee, I'm willing to humour you, if for nothing else than the fact you look on the verge of melting,” Donghun says, smile broadening when Junhee went red like the embarrassed mess he is. “You can take me on a date sometime. Where are we going?”

Junhee stares at him. Kicks his brain into function. He liked Pokémon, right? Would it be a stupid idea to-

“Arcade?” Junhee suggests hopefully. Donghun's eyes light up.

Junhee considers that a victory.

 

Donghun, as Junhee learns, considers himself good at arcade games. Junhee sets his own bar low, and warns Donghun in advance that he sucks at any and all sort of game.

Which is why Donghun is staring at him in ominous silence as Junhee wins his eighth game in a row.

“I swear I’m not doing anything, I’m literally just mashing the buttons,” Junhee says quickly, stepping away from the screen displaying Street Fighter in blurry pixels.

“You lied to me about sucking at video games!” Donghun scolds, but he’s poorly attempting to cover up a smile. “Tell you what, let’s try that.” He gestures at the racing game they have yet to try. “You can’t button mash your way to victory in that.”

Junhee takes that as a challenge; rolls up his sleeves and cracks his knuckles as though preparing for a genuine fight.

Needless to say, he loses terribly.

 

The next time that Yuchan and Junhee are at the café, Junhee makes sure it’s a day that Donghun isn’t working, so that absolutely no stalking or stupid comments could possibly occur. Then again, the universe never works in his favour, and this is obvious when Yuchan physically brightens, sitting up in his seat.

“Oh hey, afternoon,” Donghun says, smiling only half-awkwardly when he falls to a stop beside their table. He has a friend with him, who looks just as unwilling to converse as Junhee.

“Good afternoon,” Junhee mirrors, returning the smile and hoping it didn’t look as uncomfortable as he felt. Donghun appears to be continuing his dumb (albeit endearing) crop top trend. Junhee chooses to focus on the ice melting in his empty cup instead.

“Wanna join us?” Yuchan asks, gesturing to some spare seats behind them. In all honesty, Junhee doesn’t really have the energy to sulk over Yuchan’s overconfidence today, so he just scoots aside to make room at the table. As predicted, Donghun sits beside him, leaving his visibly uncomfortable friend to sit with Yuchan.

“How are you? Oh, this is Sehyoon. We share an apartment and, like, half our classes,” Donghun explains, gesturing to his friend, who instantly holds himself a little taller. He smiles, but it freezes over slightly when he catches sight of Junhee. His gaze flits over to Yuchan and back to Junhee, before his expression returns to normal. The odd moment was so short-lived, Junhee is struggling to decipher whether he had imagined it or not.

“Nice to meet you,” Junhee says.

Friendly greetings aside, Sehyoon looks mildly distressed at the unexpected social interaction, and he really can’t blame him.

 

“Junhee,” Yuchan starts, in that way of his that implies he has a lot to say. He is sprawled out across the couch, watching his roommate fiddle with his hair in the reflection of the TV. “Firstly, your date isn't for half an hour, calm down. Secondly, I've noticed a slight, very minor, tiny strange factor in your current relationship.”

“Hm?” Junhee questions absentmindedly, giving up on his antics and raking his fingers through his hair instead.

“You've been on, what, six dates with this guy now?” Yuchan sits up a little, making space for Junhee to collapse on the couch beside him. “It's been over a month.”

“What's your point?” Junhee asks, raising an eyebrow.

“When are you going to tell him you have huge matching Pokémon tattoos?”

 

Junhee falters a little at that, glancing all around the room as though he'd find the answer to the question written on the walls. “Um.”

“The longer you leave it, the weirder it is to lift your sleeve and present a beautifully drawn bulbasaur. I know 'what do you have up your sleeve’ is only an expression, but Donghun should be seriously concerned about what's up yours.”

Junhee snorts. “Alright, listen, there's no right time to do that kind of thing. It's not in the dating protocol to reveal your couple tattoo.”

“Yeah, I'm aware, but it definitely gets worse if you leave it longer. It’s not like you’re revealing some dramatic secret,” Yuchan says, scrunching up his nose. “Plus, your prince probably deserves to know.”

Junhee pushes him off the couch.

 

The hot weather had hit its peak some time ago, so it has been cooler these days. At first, Junhee had decided that he appreciated being able to walk outside without feeling as though he was entering the Sahara desert, but today is different.

The instant cold evening air that slaps Junhee in the face the moment he steps outside the movie theatre is a shock. Donghun trails after him, wrapping his arms around his torso and whining about the loss of summer.

“That's what happens when you wear nothing but t-shirts and crop tops,” Junhee says, ignoring the pity parade being thrown in front of him in favour of finishing his coke can. Donghun mutters something about disrespect, which Junhee also chooses to ignore.

His eyes briefly find the stupid half-heart tattoo on Donghun's arm. The charmander is cute. Bulbasaur is cuter.

“Say, how did you end up with that tattoo?” he asks slowly. Donghun's eyes trail down to the tattoo, and up to Junhee.

“It's a dumb story,” he says, giving Junhee an indecipherable look.

“Hit me.” Junhee starts walking, and Donghun matches his pace.

“I got very drunk while out with Sehyoon, and we ended up getting along with some other people. Like the awful friend he is, he left me with them, and said he’d come collect me when I was done, because he didn’t feel like staying out much longer.”

“So you got a Pokémon tattoo.” Junhee throws a judgemental look at Donghun, rolling the empty can between his fingers.

“A couple one.” Donghun nods, as though the idea was unflawed. “I’ll have you know, that’s a totally valid thing to get permanently drawn on your body.”

“Only an idiot would get a drunk tattoo,” Junhee teases, completely missing Donghun almost tripping up mid-walk. There’s several moments of silence.

“I’m not sure how I feel about your self-deprecating humour, Junhee,” Donghun says eventually. There’s some more silence as he lets the words sink in.

“Hold up,” Junhee demands. He stops walking and Donghun does the same, turning around with wide, innocent eyes. “Actually hold up, what did you just say?” Donghun bursts out laughing, and Junhee jabs an accusatory finger at him. “Lee Donghun-”

“I’m sorry, I was gonna say something earlier, but I was waiting to make that joke-”

Junhee throws his hands up in surrender.

“Okay, but really, you literally rolled up your sleeves on our first date,” Donghun says, reaching to take Junhee’s hand in his and push up the blue material of his sweater. “Because you wanted to show me up at a racing game.” He hesitates. “Also, Sehyoon recognised you. And your friend was really obvious.”

Junhee stiffens. “I knew it,” he says in sudden understanding. “Somehow, these things are always Chan’s fault.” He pulls his arm free, and starts walking with importance.

“Junhee, it’s only the seventh date!” Donghun runs to catch up, struggling to follow Junhee’s stride whilst attempting to contain his laughter. “It’s too soon to murder together.”

Junhee spins around, and flings the empty coke can at him.

 


End file.
